


Drifting Further Everyday

by GotTheSilver



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Developing Relationship, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 14:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18412598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: Steve’s quiet a lot of the time, it’s almost like living with a ghost, and Tony kind of hates it; he lives with more than enough actual ghosts every day.  The longer time goes on, the more Tony recognises what’s going on, sees the jumpiness, the haunted look on his face, and he gets it.  Realises they’re both trying to bury things they don’t want to talk about.  More often than not, Tony turns around in the workshop to see Steve sitting there, patiently working on something in his sketchbook or reading an actual book, usually something he missed during the years he was frozen.Somehow Steve is filling all the gaps in his life Tony didn’t realise he needed filling.





	Drifting Further Everyday

**Author's Note:**

> because I'm always gonna love writing about two broken people trying to fit around each other's edges.

“You look like shit,” Tony says as soon as Steve steps off the elevator that’s brought him up from the lobby. “Which, I didn’t think was possible.”

“Thanks,” Steve responds, hitching his duffle bag higher on his shoulder. “Good to see you too, Tony.”

Looking Steve over, Tony frowns at the sight of a gash on his cheek and by his lip, the hint of swelling around his right eye, the way Steve’s holding himself like it still hurts to move. “I’m not gonna insult you by asking if you’re okay, so. Hungry?” There’s a weight that leaves Steve’s shoulders as he nods, an almost grateful look on his face that Tony doesn’t know what to do with. “Okay. JARVIS?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Order, I don’t know, pizza? Thai? Chinese? Any opinion here, Cap?”

“All of it sounds good,” Steve says, following Tony down the hall. “It’s been a while since I ate.”

Tony shrugs, hitting a panel to call the private elevator. “You heard the man, JARVIS, order the usual from all those.”

The elevator ride up to the suites is uncomfortably quiet, but blissfully short, and when they get out on Tony’s floor he pauses, looking at Steve’s bag, the state of the clothes he’s wearing. “Is that—do you _have_ any other clothes? Not that we’re the same size, at all, but I can get you clothes.” Tony doesn’t know what he’s said that makes Steve lean against the wall, bag falling to the floor as he presses his hand against his face, but he takes a tentative step forward anyway. “Steve? I—you don’t have to wear clothes if you don’t want to. I mean, if someone comes to visit then maybe throw a robe on or something, but me, personally? Totally okay with nudity.”

“Sorry,” Steve breathes out after a moment. “I didn’t—I’m not going to walk around naked, Tony.” Pressing his fingers against his forehead before dropping them, Steve meets Tony’s eyes. “I think everything’s catching up with me.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, unconsciously touching the middle of his chest, the scars he knows are there, something even extremis couldn’t get rid of. “Life will do that to you.”

Steve nods, his eyes still looking like he’s lost somewhere, like he’s not fully present. “I need to shower,” he says. “Can I—”

“Two doors down,” Tony says. “Your room, if you want. Or you can have a lower floor all to yourself? I’m up here too, but if you don’t want company then I get it—”

“Company sounds good,” Steve says quietly. “I could use it.”

“Okay,” Tony says. “Then get showered, Cap. Food will be here soon.”

*

Tony doesn’t know what to do with Steve being here, it’s not like they’ve spent much time together, and all Tony can do is assume this is Steve seeking out his last resort, Steve having nowhere else to go after what happened in Washington, and Tony—well. He gets what that feels like so he can’t criticise Steve for it.

Both of them forgo sitting on the couch, or in the kitchen, and instead they’re on the floor with the food laid out in front of them, handing boxes back and forth as they work through the ridiculous amount of food that arrived at the tower. Steve’s looking more relaxed, clad in a pair of Stark Industries branded sweatpants and a tank top as he methodically works his way through a pizza, grease smearing around his mouth.

“Where did you find those?” Tony asks, gesturing to the sweatpants.

Steve looks down at himself. “Oh, uh. Natasha. She packed the bag for me. Guess she thought it was funny.”

“She worked here,” Tony says, grabbing a box of crab rangoon and digging in. “Did she tell you that? Undercover. Saved my life, kind of. Tried to.”

“I read about it, SHIELD files before...” Steve trails off, shaking his head like he still can’t believe what happened. “She never said anything, but she doesn’t share a whole lot.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” Tony says, huffing out a laugh. “Is she joining us?”

“Not any time soon, I don’t think,” Steve says. “But it’s Natasha, she might turn up tomorrow for all I know.”

“And the guy with the wings from SI?”

“Those were yours?” Steve asks around a mouthful of food, and really, Tony’s almost insulted by the idea that anyone else could’ve designed them. Years old, by now, but still, those are Starktech through and through. “Sam’s on his way,” Steve says. “If that’s—I didn’t want to assume.”

“Do I look like I’m overwhelmed with house guests right now?”

“Won’t Pepper mind?”

And there’s the billion dollar question that Tony would’ve quite happily paid Steve a billion dollars not to ask. “She—we—uh. Well. She’s not living here.”

“I’m sorry, Tony.”

Tony quirks a smile at Steve, the corner of his mouth turning up, and he shakes his head. “Ever the gentleman,” Tony says, mostly to himself, but he can’t deny that it feels good to be on the receiving end of such sentiment from Steve. “I’m dealing. Kind of. What about you?”

“I’m not dating anyone.”

“No, just—” Tony waves a hand. “In general. That lump under your eye tells a story.”

Steve sighs, poking at some fried rice with a fork before putting the carton down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair,” Tony says after a beat. “But if you do then Stark Industries has, I’m told, the very best mental health professionals on staff, so. It’s there, if you want it.”

“Not offering yourself up for it?”

“Do I look like the sharing and caring type?”

“It’s your eyes,” Steve says with a small smirk. “They’re very soothing.”

Tony laughs, and it feels foreign to his own ears, he doesn’t want to think about how long it’s been since he laughed with someone else. Pointing at Steve with a chopstick, he raises an eyebrow. “You’re kind of an asshole.”

“That a problem?”

“Please. Look who you’re talking to.”

“Thank you,” Steve says, his eyes taking on the look of man who has been subject to one too many interrogations about his mental health. “For not pushing.”

“I get it,” Tony says. “Not wanting to—look. You can stay here, as long as you want, and if you want some help with doing what I’m sure you’re itching to do but we’re not going to talk about, then let me know.” Steve nods in acknowledgement, which Tony guesses is the best he can ask for. Putting the pad thai down, Tony shifts to his knees. “I’m going to see the night out in the workshop so if—”

“What are you working on?” Steve interrupts to ask, honest curiosity in his eyes that Tony didn’t expect. “If you don’t mind sharing.”

“No, I—I’m not entirely sure what I’m working on,” Tony says. “New suit, maybe. Your suit? Any ideas?”

“Can I join you?”

That’s not what Tony expected, if anything he expected Steve to head to his own room and leave him to it. “You want to?”

“Is that surprising?”

“No, I just. Wasn’t sure you’d want to spend that much time around me,” Tony says, self consciously running a hand through his hair.

“Tony, why would you think I don’t want to spend time with you? I came here, didn’t I?”

Avoiding Steve’s eyes, Tony shrugs, already turning towards the elevator. “Yes but—don’t worry about it. Come on,” he says, gesturing to Steve. “If you’re good, I’ll set you an override so you can let yourself in even if I’m busy.”

Steve laughs softly. “I’ll be good. Is it okay if I bring my sketchbook?”

“Sure. You’re not going to sell my secrets to my enemies are you?”

“I’m not sure I can tell who my enemies are anymore,” Steve says, as they get inside the elevator. "Which is troubling."

*

Tony’s not sure what to make of the rest of the night. It’s weird, but not in any way that Tony can make sense of, aside from the fact that he’s not used to having company in his workshop. Steve sets himself up on the couch Tony’s crashed out on more times than he can count, sketchbook resting against his knees, and a coffee with hazelnut syrup of all things on the table next to the couch. Pulling up the first design of Steve’s suit, Tony frowns at it, already picking out where he could make improvements.

“What didn’t you like about it?” he asks Steve. “The first suit you had. Not the stealth one, I heard you liked that one which, you’re welcome.”

“You designed it?”

“It’s like you think I sit around counting my money all day,” Tony says with a slight smile. “Yes, I designed that one, but the classic patriotism look is a classic for a reason, so. The one you wore during New York, what did you hate about it?”

“I don’t know, it was fine.”

Tony turns and raises an eyebrow at him. “Cap, you can take politeness too far and I refuse to believe you don’t have an opinion on this. Designs can be improved, that’s kind of my whole thing, I’m not gonna kick you out if you hated it. Mostly because I didn’t have any input on it, so it doesn’t bother me.”

“I didn’t hate it.”

“But?”

“It’ll be easier if I show you,” Steve says, getting up from the couch and walking over. Leaning over Tony’s shoulder, he reaches to touch the hologram. “Can I?”

“Sure,” Tony says, trying not to lean back into Steve’s warmth. “If you fuck anything up, JARVIS will fix it.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Steve murmurs, a vibration in his chest that Tony feels where Steve is pressed up against his back.

Steve’s hands move quickly, elegantly, using the technology with an ease that impresses Tony, and after a moment Tony tilts his head at the changes Steve is making. “Are those—”

“I don’t fly, and if we’re going to fight together then it needs to be easier for you to grip me,” Steve says. “I mean—”

Tony turns his head, raising his eyebrows at Steve when he sees the red flush on Steve’s cheeks. “Oh really?”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a second before he takes a few steps back from Tony, his hands hanging by his side. “It’s late, I should probably—”

“Did I offend you?” Tony asks, voice neutral as he watches Steve, wondering if this is the fastest he’s fucked up hanging out with someone. It’s not like he gets much practice, not with people who actually want to be around him, and he—Tony doesn’t like the idea of having offended Steve, and he really doesn’t want to think too hard about why that is.

“No,” Steve answers at last, sticking his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “I don’t—I’m not very good at this. Trying to be friends with someone, I mean. Before the serum, all I really had was Bucky, and then I woke up and—”

“You were thrown into a mess of people with powers, daddy issues, and not many social skills?”

“Something like that. Natasha’s really the only person I’ve spent time with, and most of that’s been on missions.”

“What’s that like?”

“She keeps trying to set me up with people,” Steve says offhandedly, and Tony doesn’t know what to say that. “Tony, I wasn’t offended by what you said. I’ve never been good at—”

“Flirting?”

“Talking to people.”

“There’s a difference?” Tony asks, smiling a little at Steve.

“Maybe not for you.”

Tony nods in acknowledgement and turns back to the suit design still hanging in the air. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get this done.”

*

Steve’s quiet a lot of the time, it’s almost like living with a ghost, and Tony kind of hates it; he lives with more than enough actual ghosts every day. The longer time goes on, the more Tony recognises what’s going on, sees the jumpiness, the haunted look on his face, and he gets it. Realises they’re both trying to bury things they don’t want to talk about. More often than not, Tony turns around in the workshop to see Steve sitting there, patiently working on something in his sketchbook or reading an actual book, usually something he missed during the years he was frozen.

Somehow Steve is filling all the gaps in his life Tony didn’t realise he needed filling.

They’re in the workshop again; Tony fiddling around with the inside of a Tesla because he’s sure he can do better than Elon, and Steve sitting on the floor with him asking questions about the changes in cars over the years. “Do you want to go out?” Tony asks, looking up from the engine. “I’m craving something dripping with grease.”

“I could eat.”

“You could always eat,” Tony says, unable to stop a note of fondness creeping into his voice. “I’m asking if you want to go out, into the city, be amongst people.”

“I’m not a shut in, Tony.”

“No, I know, I know, I just—forget it.”

Steve stands up and reaches a hand down to help Tony up; Tony stares at it for too long of a moment before he takes it, the strong grip sending his mind off in a dozen different directions as he lets himself be pulled upright. Steve’s hand lingers, Tony can’t help but notice, but when he looks down at their joined hands, Steve drops his as if he’s suddenly aware of what he’s doing. “It’s 4am,” Steve says, avoiding Tony’s eyes. “Where are we going to go?”

“This city hasn’t changed that much,” Tony says, letting Steve get away with avoidance. “Diner food, Cap. It’s a classic for a reason.”

They end up in a diner on Lex, deluxe cheeseburger platters covering the table; Tony picks at the onion rings, enjoying the grease on his fingers, and the company. There’s a group of slightly drunk tourists at a booth across the room, and a bunch of night shift workers grabbing dinner before going home, but otherwise it’s as quiet as it ever gets in New York.

Tony sucks at his milkshake, watching Steve’s shoulders relax the longer they sit there with no one bothering them. “So, when’s your friend going to join us?”

“Sam? Soon, I think. He’s been tying things up in DC, but I told him you’d make him a new set of wings.”

“Funny, I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Tony says before shoving an onion ring in his mouth.

“But you’re already thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Tony narrows his eyes and sucks harder on his milkshake, raising his eyebrows when he notices the way Steve averts his eyes. “I don’t like how right you are,” Tony says, his straw still resting against his bottom lip. “It’s unfair.”

“It’s unfair that I’ve worked out you can’t resist building fun toys?”

“Yes because you shouldn’t be allowed to be attractive and smart,” Tony says, putting down his milkshake. “And thanks for making it sound like SI is in the sex toys business.” Tony pauses, hand hovering over what’s left of his fries. “Actually, maybe we should be in that business, how do you feel about your shield being on a vibrator?”

“Tony.”

“Butt plug?”

“I think we should go home,” Steve says through the flush creeping up his cheeks. “The sun’s coming up.”

“Nope, no changing the subject,” Tony says, even as he’s getting the waitresses attention and handing his card over with a wink. “I think we need to have a serious talk about this new venture for SI, Steve, and just how involved you want to be.”

“I’m regretting coming out with you in public,” Steve says, draining the dregs of his root beer float as the waitress comes back.

“Everyone says that,” Tony says, dropping cash on the table for a tip as they get up. “You’re not special.”

The city’s woken up some more by the time they’re back outside, and Tony’s regretting not grabbing a hat to go with the sunglasses he’s wearing. Steve’s hunched next to him, his own hat low over his eyes, and the ease he’d had in the diner visibly wearing off. Instinctively, Tony touches Steve’s forearm, not voicing his concerns, but feeling somewhat validated when Steve moves to take his hand.

Tony’s not sure he’s _ever_ held hands with anyone, at least not in this almost totally innocent way. Almost totally innocent because Tony can’t stop part of his brain from focusing on just how large, but gentle, Steve’s hands are and how that would translate to—well, he’s not a goddamn saint.

When they make it to the foyer of the tower, Tony leads him straight to the elevator that takes them directly to their quarters and hits the button. Steve’s still holding onto Tony’s hand and Tony looks down, wondering if he should say something, but before any words can come out of his mouth, Steve’s apologising and dropping Tony’s hand. “There’s nothing to apologise for,” Tony says. “Steve—it’s—do I have to give you the world has changed speech?”

“No,” Steve says with a slight huff of laughter. “It’s not that you’re a man, it’s—I should’ve asked.”

“You should’ve asked to hold my hand,” Tony states, trying to wrap his head around the idea as the doors open to the common floor. “I honestly don’t know what to say to that, Steve, I—. You can hold my hand whenever you want, okay?”

“I don’t want to over—”

“Nope,” Tony says, kicking off his sneakers and flopping onto the couch. “Come, sit down, watch some tv with me until we pass out. Hold my hand if you want. Or other parts, if you’re down with—”

“Tony.”

“Why does everyone say my name like that?”

“I can’t imagine,” Steve says mildly, as he joins Tony on the couch.

*

Tony’s woken up by JARVIS’ voice telling him that Pepper’s calling. Fuzzily, he blinks his eyes open, confused by the weight on him until he sees Steve’s head resting on his chest, the both of them stretched along the length of the couch. “Huh,” he says quietly, not wanting to wake Steve. “JARVIS? How long have I been asleep.”

“A full eight hours, sir. Should I connect Ms. Potts?”

“Sure,” he says, one hand absently landing on the back of Steve’s neck without thinking, the other grabbing the tablet on the floor. “Hey Pep,” he says as her face appears on the screen. “What’s up?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating Steve?”

“I— _what_?” Tony raises his eyebrows, wondering if she can see Steve on top of him. “I’m—why do you think I’m dating Steve?”

“You were holding his hand this morning,” she says. “There’s photos outside the tower. Tony, did you not want to tell me? Because—”

“I’m not dating Steve, Pepper,” Tony interrupts, glancing down at where Steve hasn’t moved an inch. “You saw what happened in DC, he’s—” Tony cuts himself off and bites his bottom lip. “I’m trying to be a friend.”

Pepper gives him a smile he hasn’t seen in a long time. “Tony,” she says quietly. “Is he there?”

“Maybe. It’s possible that we fell asleep on the couch.”

“You’re a good friend,” she says. “Do you want me to do anything about the photos?”

“I’ll ask him when he wakes up,” Tony says, slightly thrown by the praise. “Pep, I—” he breaks off and sighs. “Thank you, Miss Potts.”

“You’re welcome, Mr Stark,” Pepper says, the familiar words bringing a smile to Tony’s face as Pepper ends the call.

Tony drops the tablet to the floor and looks down at Steve; his hand still resting against the back of Steve’s neck, Steve’s head turned slightly so Tony can see his profile, and it’s taking all the self control Tony has not to run his fingers through Steve’s hair. Steve looks so young like this, too young to have gone through all the things he has gone through, and Tony hates it. “Hey, JARVIS?”

“Yes sir?”

“What’re people saying?”

“Quite a lot, I imagine.”

“Hilarious. About the photos Pepper said were out.”

“Most are speculating as to how and why Captain Rogers succumbed to your charms, alongside questioning his sexuality.”

“Negatively?”

“As is predictable, Fox News are taking a particularly dim view, others are cautious but not outright condemning the Captain.”

Tony unconsciously runs his fingers along the back of Steve’s neck. “Thanks, J.” There’s a shift from Steve, and Tony’s fingers pause in their movement, wondering what, if any, Steve has heard of the last few minutes. “Steve?” Steve turns his face in response, his mouth dragging over Tony’s exposed skin, and Tony sucks a breath in. “Steve, Cap, buddy—”

“I’m awake,” Steve says, voice muffled by Tony’s shirt before he lifts his head, chin resting on Tony’s chest, blinking sleepily up at Tony and—

Tony’s fucked. Completely and utterly fucked, and not in the way he’d like to be. “Hi,” he says quietly, heart pounding in his chest at a rate that should be worrying. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, a soft smile on his face as he locks eyes with Tony. “Thanks for being my pillow.”

“Anytime,” Tony says before he can think better of it. “You should know—Pepper called earlier, apparently someone photographed us holding hands this morning, so I don’t know if you want to—the photos are out there now, but if you want to say something, or we can issue a statement—”

“Tony, slow down,” Steve says, detangling himself from Tony and sitting up at the end of the couch, pulling Tony’s legs into his lap. “Why would I want to issue a statement?”

“To reassure the American public that you haven’t been taken advantage of by notorious slut, Tony Stark? I won’t be offended, you have an image to protect and—”

“I’m not going to do that,” Steve says, his mouth set in a firm line, one hand on Tony’s lower leg.

“You should.”

“Well, I don’t care what people think, especially when it’s about my private life,” Steve says. “Back in the day the rags were always trying to make out like I was cadding around with the USO girls, and if I’d listened to that—”

“Okay,” Tony interrupts, holding a hand up. “I get it. You’re happy to be buddies with me and the press can go screw themselves.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, his fingers unconsciously pressing against Tony’s leg and Tony doesn’t say anything for fear Steve might stop. “I don’t like having to explain myself to strangers, is all. Some things....” Steve drifts off before shrugging. “I want to be Steve, not Captain America.”

Tony nods, offering Steve a smile. “I get it,” he says. “No statement required.”

*

Not long after the photos of them holding hands hit the press, Tony has to leave for some meetings in Japan, and he can’t stop fretting about what Steve’s going to do in his absence. It’s not that he thinks he can’t trust Steve—he trusts Steve more than himself at the moment—he just. He doesn’t want to _leave_ , which is new for him; he’s used to running off at a moment’s notice, no one to tell, no one to leave behind because they’re either coming with him, or have their own shit to do.

He’s spent every day of the last month with Steve and he’s got so used to that easy company that the thought of spending more than 24 hours without him is getting to Tony in a way he didn’t expect. “You’ll be okay, right?” Tony asks, hands stuffed in his pockets as he looks at Steve. “I won’t be gone that long.”

“You are aware I’m a grown man, right?”

“Yes, no, I—” Tony breaks off at the sound of his phone going off. Fishing it out, he sees Pepper’s face on the screen and groans. “I’m late, apparently. Anything happens, aliens, secret Nazi enclaves, you can’t find tape, you run out of those disgusting protein bars you like so much, then—”

“I’ll call you,” Steve says, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe not for the tape or the protein bars, but the other stuff, I’ll call. As long as you remember not to give terrorists your home address again.”

“That’s... fair,” Tony says, eyeing Steve as his phone goes off again in his hand. “I have to go.”

“I know, Tony,” Steve says. There’s an awkward pause before Steve reaches for him and tugs Tony into a hug that Tony absolutely does not melt into. “Stay safe, okay? You’re taking a suit, right?”

“Yeah,” Tony mutters into Steve’s chest. “I’m taking a suit.” Reluctantly letting go of Steve, Tony quirks a smile at him. “See you in a few days, Cap,” he says, before leaning in and pressing a kiss against the corner of Steve’s mouth. Tony feels Steve freeze before he realises what he’s done, and he almost trips over his feet as he backs up. “Sorry, I—, won’t happen again.” Tony turns on his heel and ignores Steve calling after him as he heads into the elevator, hoping that Steve won’t chase him.

He doesn’t.

Tony’s on the plane before he dares to think about what that means. He switched his phone off, which, yes, probably a cowardly thing to do, but he just—he really doesn’t want to think about how much he fucked up, about the possibility that if he switches his phone on all he’ll get is silence or Steve telling him he’s moving out.

“Okay, what is it?” Pepper says, dragging him out of his thoughts. “Tony?”

“What?”

“You’re distracted and moping.”

“I’m—”

“Tony.”

Huffing, Tony sits back in his seat and stares out the window. “You know, you knowing me so well is the worst thing about my life.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Pepper says. “Are you going to tell me?”

“No,” Tony says, still staring out of the window, fingers tapping against his thigh. “I mean, I—remember when you asked if Steve and I were dating? I may have, possibly, before I left, kissed him and run away.”

“Oh Tony,” Pepper says, putting her tablet down and giving him her full attention. “Really?”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Didn’t mean to kiss him, or didn’t mean to run away?”

“...both?” Tony turns to her and runs a hand through his hair. “The first one, maybe. The second was a conscious choice. I should call him, shouldn’t I? Make sure he’s okay? But if he doesn’t want to speak to me—I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”

Pepper raises an eyebrow. “Because your longtime crush on Captain America was always such a well kept secret?”

“No, Pep, I mean—” Tony breaks off, slumping in his seat. “It’s not about Captain America,” he says quietly, fiddling with his phone, thumb brushing over the power switch. “It’s about Steve.” Something clicks in his brain at that and he stands up, gesturing to the back of the plane. “I’m gonna—yeah.”

Tony closes the door behind him and sits down on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone before switching it on. There’s a rush of notifications but he ignores them all and calls Steve, his heart pounding in his chest as he waits for the call to connect.

“Tony?”

“Hi,” Tony says, wincing as he does. “I—should I be apologising here?”

“Depends on what it is you think you should be apologising for,” Steve says. “So why don’t you try it and see what happens?”

“For running away. I’m sorry for running away.”

There’s silence at the other end and for a moment Tony thinks he’s fucked up, or that Steve’s hung up on him, but then there’s a heavy sigh and, well, it might not be the most positive reaction, but it’s a reaction.

“You—so you’re not sorry for kissing me?”

“Do you want me to be sorry for kissing you?”

“Don’t put this on me, Tony.”

“Okay, fine, I’m not sorry for kissing you, is that what you want to hear?”

“Yes. I don’t want you to be sorry about it.”

“Oh.” Tony feels slightly dazed and he presses his free hand against the bed, gripping the sheets tightly, trying to ground himself. “You mean—”

“I miss you,” Steve says in a rush. “You haven’t even been gone that long and I—”

“You could’ve come with me,” Tony says. “I know it’s a work trip, but—”

“No, Tony, it’s—I think this is—” Steve breaks off and Tony hears him swear under his breath.

“Steve, look, when I get back? I’ve got a house up on the Cape, I haven’t—it’s been a long time since I’ve been there, but—”

“Yes,” Steve interrupts. “We should go.”

“Okay,” Tony says. “Okay, I mean, yes, good. You’d—okay.”

They say their goodbyes and hang up; Tony lets go of the bedsheets and flexes his fingers a few times. Part of him doesn’t quite believe that Steve agreed so readily to come away with him, but—shaking his head, Tony stands up and heads back into the main cabin.

“Well?” Pepper asks.

“Everything’s... good. Also I need to clear my schedule for at least two weeks and make sure that the Cape Cod house is stocked.”

“Tony—”

“I need this,” Tony says, pouring himself a drink from the bar. “Not just because of Steve, I—I need the time.”

Pepper examines his face before she nods. “Okay. We’ll make it happen.”

*

It’s late when Tony gets back from Japan and he leans against the wall of the elevator as it takes him up the tower, only realising his eyes are closed when JARVIS announces his arrival. Stumbling out of the elevator, Tony blinks a few times before he walks towards his bedroom, pushing the door open and walking in, only to stop in his tracks at the sight of Steve in his bed.

Huh.

Steve’s asleep on his side, facing the door, hasn’t even moved at the sound of Tony crashing into the room and Tony—he can’t stop staring at him, at the curve of his back, the way his mouth is slightly open, and Tony takes a few steps closer to the bed. Reaching down, Tony brushes his fingers through Steve’s hair and sucks in a breath when Steve rolls onto his back at the touch, eyes fluttering open. “Tony,” he says, voice soft with sleep. “You’re back.”

“And you’re in my bed.”

Steve pushes himself up on one elbow and rubs his face with his other hand before looking at Tony. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Tony says. “No, I just wasn’t—”

“You look exhausted.”

“Thanks.”

“Take your clothes off and get in bed.”

“I feel like we’re jumping ahead several steps in our relationship,” Tony says, even as he sits on the edge of the bed and starts to take his shoes off. “But I’m so tired I don’t even care.” Standing up, Tony rids himself of his jeans and looks at Steve, fiddling with the bottom of his t-shirt before deciding to leave it on. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Tony gets in the bed, feeling Steve’s eyes on him as he settles down. “So. You decided to sleep in my bed.”

Steve smiles, reaching over and touching Tony’s face, thumb tracing over Tony’s mouth before he leans down and presses a quick kiss against Tony’s lips, too fast for Tony to really register. “Go to sleep, Tony. We’ll talk in the morning.”

And Tony’s too tired to do anything but close his eyes.

Tony wakes up to Steve’s arm in his face because apparently Steve’s never had the opportunity to learn how to share a bed with someone. He reaches out, smacking whatever part of Steve he can reach, and snorts when Steve startles awake. “Wha—”

“You really need to learn how to share a bed.”

“The fuck?”

Tony laughs in delight at Steve’s sleep worn voice swearing, and he rolls onto his side to look at him. “Morning,” he says quietly.

“Mornin’,” Steve replies, a small smile on his face. “And I know how to share a bed.”

“The arm in my face when I woke up says differently.”

“Lies and slander,” Steve says, closing his eyes. “I’m a gentleman. You, on the other hand, woke me up by smacking me.”

“Because your super soldier arm was in my face,” Tony says, propping himself up on one elbow and rolling his eyes when Steve cracks one eye open. “J, what time is it?”

“11:43am, sir, and, if I may, Miss Potts has cleared your schedule, and the helicopter is ready whenever you and Captain Rogers are.”

Tony hums before tapping Steve on the chest. “You still want to go away with me? What about your buddy?”

“Sam called while you were away,” Steve says, both eyes open now as he rubs a hand over his face. “He’s working on a transfer here, but it’s taking longer than he thought it would.”

“With the VA?”

“Yeah.”

“I can make some calls,” Tony says. “I’ve got connections, people who owe favours, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I’ll call before we leave,” he says. “If you want.”

“I’ll check with Sam, but that would be great, Tony,” Steve says, a bright smile on his face that Tony can’t help but return.

He’s not sure how long they stay like that, grinning at each other like idiots, but he’s sure it’s an embarrassingly significant amount of time. Breaking the gaze, Tony turns to get out of the bed. “Right, okay, you check with Sam, I’m going to shower.”

“Hey,” Steve says, grabbing Tony’s arm. “What do I need to pack?”

Tony gives Steve a once over and shrugs. “As little as possible? I’m on the side of all out nudity, but if you don’t want to skinny dip, then I guess some swimming trunks?”

“Tony.”

“You asked,” Tony says with a smile, going willingly when Steve uses his grip to pull him back onto the bed. “I was going to shower,” Tony says as Steve presses him against the bed, face pushed up against Tony’s neck, his arms hooked under Tony’s body. “Come on, are you a puppy? Steve—”

“Just—” Steve’s mouth moves against Tony’s neck, a soft imitation of a kiss. “Thank you.”

Tony runs his hands along Steve’s back. “Steve, I—”

“I know you don’t think you’re doing anything special,” Steve says. “But—you’re helping me. More than you know.”

Fingers rubbing at the nape of Steve’s neck, Tony stays silent, letting himself enjoy the feel of Steve’s body against his, the quiet in the room that’s enveloping them. “Always,” he whispers. “Whatever you want.”

*

It’s almost mid-afternoon by the time they make it to the helipad, but it’s a short ride over, and soon they’re touching down not far from the house. Tony hasn’t been here in years, he used it in his twenties as a crash pad, somewhere to escape to when he needed a break from the people surrounding him. It’s quiet, the kind of don’t ask don’t tell atmosphere that comes along with being obscenely rich, though for once, Tony’s not using that to hide his bad habits.

There’d been a vintage Jaguar that Tony had forgotten he kept parked at the helipad base where they landed and he’d taken a moment to appreciate it before throwing their bags in the trunk and gesturing for Steve to get in. They pull up at the house and Tony guides the car into the garage before looking over at Steve, who looks almost disappointed.

“What’s with the face?” Tony asks as he switches the engine off.

“We can take the car out again, right?” Steve asks, eyes lighting up as he runs his hands over the dash. “For a drive?”

“We can even find a spot to make out,” Tony says with a smirk. “Come on, let me show you the house.”

“Is JARVIS here?” Steve asks as they walk through the house. “It all seems, I mean, compared to the tower it’s—”

“Low tech?” Tony interjects. “I have a workshop here, JARVIS is installed there, but this house—it was my mom’s place, really, her family settled in New England, so when dad was wooing her, he bought this for her. To have a place, I guess, where she could host her family. Story goes, they weren’t impressed by his excesses and so the only time this got used was when mom would come up here to escape him. Or me. Both, sometimes.”

“Tony, I’m sure she—”

“I’m never going to know,” Tony says, leaning against a wall outside the library. “She loved me, I know that, but I was a genius kid, neither of them knew how to deal and then I got sent away. She’d visit, but—” Tony breaks off and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Steve says, a stricken look on his face. “Tony, I—there’s something you need to know. About everything that was leaked from SHIELD.”

“What is it? I’ve had JARVIS running over it, but I haven’t had time to look at—”

“It’s why I haven’t asked you for help finding Bucky,” Steve says quietly, ducking his head. “I—I should’ve told you before we came up here, before we started any of—”

“Steve?”

“I understand if you don’t want me to be up here after I tell you, I can go back to the tower, or somewhere else if you don’t—”

Tony steps forward and tentatively touches Steve’s face. “Hey,” he says quietly. “You’re worrying me.”

“Your parents,” Steve says, meeting Tony’s eyes. “Hydra, The Winter Soldier, they killed them.”

“My parents died in a car accident,” Tony says. “They—”

“An accident caused by Hydra,” Steve says quietly. “Then Bucky, he—”

“You knew, you—” Tony drops his hand, removing himself from any contact with Steve, and presses himself back against the wall. “You came to me, and you—” Tony rubs a hand over his face before coming to a horrible realisation. “Would you have told me if we hadn’t—”

“Yes,” Steve interrupts instantly. “I would’ve told you, I wanted to tell you all this time, but I didn’t—” he breaks off and ducks his head. “I didn’t know how,” he says so quietly Tony almost doesn’t catch it.

“I always thought it was him,” Tony says absently. “That he had too much to drink and so that’s why she—”

“Tony—”

“I blamed him. For all of it. But, I guess, if it was on Hydra’s orders it was still his fault, wasn’t it? If he hadn’t been involved with all of this, with _you_ , then he wouldn’t—and my mom wouldn’t—” Tony cuts himself off and shakes his head. “I don’t know what to do here.”

“I can go,” Steve offers. “Find somewhere to stay with Sam, get my stuff from the tower and—”

Tony holds up a hand. “Just wait,” he says, hating how strained his own voice sounds. “Give me a moment.” Tilting his head, he looks at Steve, taking in the miserable set of his jaw, his shoulders hunched like he’s expecting to be thrown out; there’s a lost look in his eyes that Tony hasn’t seen since the first time they met, and it makes him pause. “He was brainwashed, wasn’t he? Your—the soldier?”

“He didn’t recognise me, not even—” Steve stands a little straighter and meets Tony’s eyes. “It’s not an excuse,” he says. “I should’ve told you when I got to the tower, but, hell, Tony, I didn’t know what was going on.”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “I guess finding out the spies you’ve been working for are secretly Nazis is kind of a headfuck. Don’t go.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you to go,” Tony says, pushing off the wall and closing the gap between them. “Am I pissed you kept this from me? You bet I am, Steve, they were my _parents_ , but—. You look like it’s been killing you, which, considering I don’t know what can actually kill you, is kind of terrifying.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but with everything that happened with SHIELD, and trying to understand what was going on with Bucky, and then you and I—” Steve breaks off with a sigh. “If there’s—if you don’t want to, with me, I mean, then I understand.”

“Steve, if I didn’t still want you, I would’ve thrown you out of here without a second thought,” Tony says, his voice softening. “That’s kind of the problem.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Tony says with a slight shrug. “Do you want help tracking him down?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve says, his arm raising a little before he drops it, like he’s stopping himself from touching Tony. “I don’t expect you to—”

“I know you don’t,” Tony says. “But if we don’t help him, no one will. And he’ll be up for grabs for any Government agency that wants to control him, or worse. Just—I’ll get some things up and running. If you want.”

“He doesn’t want to be found,” Steve says. “If he did, then I’d be able to find him.”

Tony reaches for Steve’s hand, threading their fingers together and noticing how Steve’s shoulders relax with the touch, how he leans towards Tony and, fuck, if he’s counting on Tony to be the rational one here, they’re all screwed. “Just watching,” Tony says. “No contact. Not sure I could take you going one on one with a super assassin again anyway. See if JARVIS can find him, first, and then we’ll worry about what to do.”

“We?” Steve asks, turning to meet Tony’s eyes, his face so close Tony could count his goddamn eyelashes.

“Yep,” Tony says, tightening his grip on Steve’s hand. “That a problem?”

“Only you could sound defensive over this,” Steve says, a slight smile on his face.

“Defensive? I’m not—” Tony’s cut off by Steve’s mouth on his and he should hate how easily he sinks into it, how he willingly curls his free hand around Steve’s waist, wanting to get him closer, but—he doesn’t hate it. Couldn’t hate it, point of fact, and that’s just a little terrifying. Steve kisses him softly, but not without heat, his fingers sliding through the hair at the nape of Tony’s neck, and Tony will deny until he’s dead that that simple action sends a shiver down his spine.

When Steve breaks the kiss, they’re still holding hands, and Tony watches as Steve brings their hands up to his lips, kissing the back of Tony’s hand like he’s a goddamn princess. “Steve—”

“Thank you,” Steve says, his voice hoarse. “For trusting me.”

*

“I heard from Sam,” Steve says later that evening while they eat outside. “He said he’s getting tired of banging his head against the wall of the VA and if you could pull some strings, he’d appreciate it.”

Tony laughs, leaning back in his chair, and nods. “I’ll talk to some people,” he says, reaching for the wine bottle and refilling their glasses. “He’ll be in New York before he knows it.”

“Seems like I’m constantly thanking you,” Steve says ruefully before taking a sip of wine.

“I can think of more creative ways for you to do that,” Tony says without thinking. “Fuck, I mean—actually, you know exactly what I mean and I’m not going to apologise.”

“Good,” Steve says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m tired of people thinking I’m a boy scout.”

“You definitely don’t kiss like a boy scout.”

“Tell Natasha that.”

Tony chokes on his wine and looks at Steve. “I’m sorry, what? When were you kissing Natasha?”

“We were hiding from Hydra.”

“And that involved kissing?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow. “None of my heroic dealings involved kissing, and definitely not kissing Natasha.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Should I be?” Tony’s mostly joking, but it doesn’t hurt that Steve leans across and kisses him, a quick, firm press of their mouths together that leaves Tony wanting more. “Good answer,” he says, fingers running down Steve’s forearm as Steve leans back in his chair. “Approved.”

Steve shoots him a soft smile and drains the last of his wine. “Is it strange?” Steve asks, gesturing towards Tony’s chest.

“You kissing me? No, in fact you should do it as often as possible.”

“Tony—”

“It is,” Tony says, fingers tapping against Steve’s skin before he stands up. “Come on, let me show you the beach.”

Steve lets out a sigh as he stands up, slipping his hand into Tony’s, and Tony leads them towards the winding path lined with wooden slats. The sun isn’t quite down yet, still hanging on above the water casting a golden light over the sand.

“It does feel strange,” Tony says when they reach the beach, feet sinking into the sand as he tries to get the words out. “You read the file, right? Diminished breath capacity? How deep it went? It was a literal weight on my chest, there wasn’t a day I didn’t feel it, a day I didn’t ache from the pain, but I—after everything I’d done, I thought that—”

“You didn’t deserve it,” Steve interrupts. “I read the file, I read what you did when you got back from Afghanistan—”

“That doesn’t make up for the years that I—”

“You didn’t _know_ ,” Steve insists, stopping and turning to face Tony. “You didn’t know,” he repeats, softer this time, and Tony turns his gaze away, the look on Steve’s face making his chest ache in a way it hasn’t since the reactor was removed.

“I didn’t know because I was drunk, or high, or locked in my workshop. That’s not really an excuse. Obie, he didn’t want me to see what he was doing, he—sometimes I think he encouraged my behaviour so I wouldn’t see what he was doing, but then, I never needed much encouragement to do what I was doing.”

“Tony—”

“It’s okay. I’m—” he breaks off, meeting Steve’s eyes. “I’m not okay, I’m not going to lie to you, but maybe I’ll get there.”

Steve lets out a sigh, and tugs Tony forward into a hug, letting go of his hand to fully envelop him in his arms. Tony goes with it, not really wanting to put up a protest; he couldn’t say how long they stand there, how long he gets to enjoy the feel of Steve’s body against his, Steve’s fingers pressing firmly against the base of his neck, but by the time he pulls away, the sun has almost gone down.

“You’re not okay either,” Tony says quietly, hand coming up to touch Steve’s face, brushing his fingers across Steve’s cheekbone, tapping the spot where the cut had been when Steve had first shown up at the tower. “These heal, but you—you’re as fucked up as the rest of us.”

“Thanks.”

“Statement of fact, not a judgement.”

There’s a light huff of laughter from Steve and he shrugs, one finger hooking into the front of Tony’s waistband. “You’re right,” he says. “I’m not okay. But it’s not exactly easy to talk about.”

“You’re looking at the poster child for avoidance, Steve, I told you, no judgement.”

“That easy?”

“Nothing about this is easy,” Tony says with a smile. “But I could be.”

The laugh that comes from Steve is worth the cheesy line, and Tony willingly goes forward when Steve tugs at his waistband. “That was awful,” Steve says, smile teasing at his mouth. “But if you—” Steve ducks his head and brushes his lips over Tony’s mouth, removing his fingers from Tony’s waistband and sliding down until his hand is resting against Tony’s crotch.

Tony’s eyebrows raise involuntarily and he reaches down, covering Steve’s hand with his own. “Really?”

“Tony—”

“Because hell yes is my answer, but you—are you sure that—I don’t want you to feel obligated because of—”

“I’m not fucking you because Bucky killed your parents, Tony,” Steve blurts out before dropping his hand, shaking off Tony’s attempts to grab him and pull him back. “Jesus, that’s not what I—”

Tony watches as Steve turns away from him and walks towards the water, and Tony’s frozen, unable to go after him. He’s not good at this, hasn’t ever been good at relationships, his track record can prove that, but Steve—. Tony doesn’t want to fuck it up, but given how long he’s been standing there as Steve stares out at the horizon, he’s thinking he’s already on the way to fucking it up. Taking a deep breath, Tony walks over to Steve, stumbling a little in the sand as he does.

“Hey,” he says, standing next to Steve, barely brushing their sides together. “I didn’t mean—” Tony breaks off and shakes his head. “I know that’s not what you were—”

“How can we have this much baggage when we barely know each other?” Steve asks in a strained voice, his jaw clenching. “Tony, I don’t know if—”

“Yeah, okay, right.” Tony swallows around the lump in his throat, sticking his hands in the pockets of his pants. “If you’re gonna leave then could you just spare me the platitudes.”

Steve jerks his head sharply to look at Tony. “What?”

“That’s what you’re doing, right? There’s always something, always—I just—” Tony pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “You can stay in the tower if you want, I won’t make it weird—”

“Why would I think you—”

“Or I can find you an apartment,” Tony carries on, ignoring Steve. “If that’s what you’d want, you don’t have to stay in the tower, not if it’ll make you uncomfortable. So, just, let me know what you’d want, I guess.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Steve says, finally, staring at Tony with a furrowed brow. “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

“Oh.”

“It just—I didn’t like the thought of you thinking that whatever we—if we—”

“Fucked?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yes, thank you. That it had anything to do with what I told you today. Because it doesn’t. Tony, you—” Steve breaks off. “I’m not good with words.”

“Give it a try,” Tony says, nudging him with his elbow. “I can be patient.”

“Really?”

“For you, I can try.”

Steve shoots Tony a small, intimate smile before raking a hand through his hair. “I told you about your parents because I didn’t want this, didn’t want _us_ , to start on the basis of lies. With everything that happened with SHIELD, I couldn’t—. And you accepted it so easily that I—” Steve stops talking and lets out a frustrated noise. “I told you I wasn’t good with words.”

“You’re better than you think you are,” Tony says quietly. “Do you want me to be angry? Do you want me to punch you and scream at you? Because I’m not too keen on breaking my hand, and Steve, I don’t want to scream at you. That sounds exhausting and you’d get that kicked puppy face which I hate, because I know you, and I know you feel like shit about this. So. It’s not easy to accept that Hydra killed my parents, it’s really not, but you—you’re making it a little bit easier.”

The naked hope on Steve’s face breaks Tony’s heart a little and he leans in, curling his arms around Steve’s waist, the corners of his mouth turning up a little when Steve’s body automatically relaxes, his own arms coming up to wrap around Tony’s shoulders.

“You get it, now?” Tony asks, fingers pressing against the small of Steve’s back. “It’s not easy, none of this is anywhere close to easy but—”

“It’s going to be worth it?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, lifting his head and meeting Steve’s gaze. “It absolutely is.”

**Author's Note:**

> fic post on [tumblr](http://gotthesilver.tumblr.com/post/184071121022/new-fic-drifting-further-everyday-stevetony-mcu)
> 
> fic post on [twitter](https://twitter.com/starstarked/status/1115760489475264512)


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